My Fate In Good Faith.

Our Home Pledge

True freedom come from victory in the struggle with inner-self.

Fethuallah Gulen

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Salma placed the abaya on her body before trying it on. She turned around, examining her reflection in front of the mirror and then shook her head vigorously. She took it off and tossed it on the bed and it joined the other dresses she tried and discarded. She gave an exasperated sigh and sat on the mirror stool. Nothing fits! All the abayas she tried either made her look fat, thin, pale, or dull. None looked lovely and she needed to look just that because she was meeting the love of her life.

She thought to try something different since her favorite outfit was not cooperating with her. She scanned through her well-arranged multifold of native wears and her eyes settled on a sky blue lace that was sawn into free yet fitting boubou with dark blue intricate design at the edges. Blue was his favorite color, she thought with a smile, slowly pulling the fabric out.

She draped a dark blue veil medium-sized veil on her head and a satisfactory smile crept on her lips when she gave her reflection a final look in the mirror. She sprayed her Lady Presidenté perfume which had a cool scent and walked out of her room heading to the guest sitting-room where he'd been patiently waiting for her.

She leaned by the door, admiring his profile as he laid back on the seat, engrossed in whatever it was that got his attention on his phone. Masculine strength was carved into every bit of his proud portrait, the dazzling whiteness of his frilled Kaftan contrasted beautifully with his bronzed skin, and the fragrance of his wild incensed cologne filled the room

"I have always known that I am good-looking, but that look you are giving me right now is going a long way to make me believe that I am irresistibly gorgeous" he joked without looking up, a boyish smile spreading across his features.

She gave a soft chuckle before saying.
"Oooh, looks like someone is trying to bolster his ego tonight," she stepped in with a flushed face and found a seat across from his

"What to do? I got shot down by a beautiful 23-year-old..." he said raising his head to look at her, his breath caught as he took in her appearance, "whose radiance always puts my good looks to shame" he stated, his gaze lingering admiringly on her.

"That's too bad" she laughed, trying unsuccessfully to hide the joy in her face and thinking the look he was giving her right now was worth the trauma she went through in trying to figure out what to wear.

He cocked his head to the side and palmed his right cheek under his right hand, staring at her fascinatingly, "The things you do to my poor heart" he said besottedly.

"Za ka Fara Koh?" she blushed, turning her head the other way to avert his unflinching gaze. She looked up after some seconds and found him still staring at her.

"Seriously Mukhtar you need to stop looking at me like that, you are making me shy," She used her palms to cover her face. He straightened his position, his eyes gleaming with a mischievous amusement before saying

"Do you know that you look like a bashful bride whenever you are flushed?" He asked then lowered his voice, almost like a whisper before adding "Just like my shy bride on our wedding night" He teased meaningfully.

"Mukhtaaar", she called in mortification, throwing a chair pillow at him, her face turning red and he laughed, "Mara kunya kawai" she murmured with a coy smile and that erupted another burst of laughter from him.

"Speaking of bride," he said straightening his sitting position with his face receding to a more sedate expression, "Baba Iro called me earlier today, he said that they want to come in for the formal introductions, they seek to fix an official date for the wedding.